Thickus

Thickus

Roaming through the streets,

Lightened by the lifeless horizon,

The good is hidden for good.

In the corner of the old wall dwells a merchant with eyes darkened by the world’s dark light.

For where no man has gone, no man dares to go.

For old tales have been told of the ancient merchant crews of Thickus.

In the high seas the melody roars. The bells chime with the seagulls.

Days have been seen such as these, where the waves climb in the sky.

Showing their brilliance of blue, hiding the sun that once shone. 

For old tales have been told of the monstrous seas of Thickus.

No man dares to come, no man dares to go.

For once where merry smiled lived, the staff has been put down.

Walking, living dreams are now a blur and mankind chooses to live by facts.

For old tales have been told of the past thriving joy of Thickus.

Laughter for screams, smiles for frowns, and happiness for sorrow.

Man pays the price to live and man sees the faults he has made.

For once the hammer is down, there is no more rising of the voices, but to live for living.

For old tales have been told of the silent voices of Thickus.

Here disaster has kept its strike, and it will remain for reflection for the rest of the world.

Here man walks as a slave and lives as  a slave, for their hearts are chained.

Freedom once reigned, but walking, living dreams stop and eventually die. 

For old tales have been told of the disappeared freedom of Thickus.

A once fruitful empire thriving in truth, with brilliance under the sun’s light. 

With grand dwellers of scholars and creative merchants that carved the empire. 

For such old tales as these have been told of Thickus.

All are tales and none is known of the ancient empire with

the merchant crew,

the monstrous sea,

the thriving joy,

the silent voices,

and the disappeared freedom of Thickus.